After the war
by timbertimbre
Summary: While docked at the Citadel, a portion of the Normandy's crew gather over a game of Skyllian Five, sharing with one another their hopeful plans for after the war is won. unrequited Joker/Shepard


**AN**: _As I Struggle to fill the next chapter of 'change your mind' have a set of drabbles I've been publishing over tumblr.  
I've edited all of them over time, so the ones published here are more polished than the originals.  
_

* * *

"What are your plans, Commander? After the war I mean?"

The question came one night over a casual game of Skyllian Five as the crew of the Normandy attempted to unwind after the attempted coup of the Citadel.  
The ship was still docked, and they were all mourning the loss of the recently departed doctor and Drell Assassin in their own ways. Even Joker braved the sombre lower deck to squeeze into the packed game, putting forth a few creds if for anything the companionship.

All eyes turned to the back wall.

Their Commander was situated at the far end of the table from the questioning Turian.  
Garrus roughly tossed a few chips in to grab Shepard's attention, but the woman hadn't budged since the game began.  
Her knees were drawn up on the table's ledge, chair tilted back and arms folded over her chest as she idly dozed off.  
Occasionally she perk up enough to take a drink or laugh at one of Vega's or Joker's gags but for the most part she sat at the end of the table like their unofficial queen, perched upon her throne.  
Just her presence was enough to guarantee no one forgot her.

"You first, big guy." She drawled lazily with a soft smile. Garrus chuckled, setting his glass down.

"Alright. I was thinking of retiring, if I survive this-."

"When. When you survive this. We can't have this discussion if you're going to say 'if'." The commander growled, letting her chair drop back on all four legs with a resounding clatter. She rolled her tumbler between her fingers before taking a sip, eyeing Garrus coolly.

"Fine then, when I survive I'm thinking of retiring. Some place warm and tropical. Maybe I'll go back home to what's left of Palaven. And because you yelled, you're not invited to visit." He added, earning him a low round of laughter from around the table.  
"But Tali, you're invited."

"Why thank you, Garrus," The Quarian replied genially "Maybe when I've finished landscaping my vacation home on Rannoch." The Turian's mandibles flared amicably and he jerked his head back towards Shepard.

"Your turn."

Shepard looked around the table before reclining slowly into her chair, tipping it back once more on its hind legs.

"What about you, Major?" She deflected, staring pensively into her glass.

"Me? Well…I figure we've got some decent pay coming in after this...Thought maybe I'd replace my vintage Mercedes." Kaidan grinned darkly, while Joker looked up from his hand.

"Hey, now that was a great car. Shame that it probably went up with the rest of Vancouver."

"Yeah." The dejected gentleman agreed, folding. "What about you Joker?"

"Haven't had time to really think about it. Though I'm probably going to need you to give me your Mercedes' keys every now and then, make sure she sees some proper daylight." Shepard grinned; she knew the Major had let Joker take a drive now and again _when she was…when she was…_ Shepard's brow furrowed at the thought of being dead.

"Yeah right." The Major laughed into his drink, stacking his chips.

"You don't think they'll really make me go through the entire N7 training when this is all over, do you?" Vega piped up,_ sounding…genuinely worried?_

"Not trying to skip out on your first-class retreat to the villa are you, James?" Shepard teased, her eyes closing once more.

"Hey, it can't get more real than this Lola. Maybe they'll make special accommodations, seeing as I trained under the best."

"I don't think that's quite how it wo—."

"Read 'em and weep!" The boisterous marine interrupted, throwing his cards down eliciting a collective groan from around the table.

"That's right Vakarian, pay up."

The group murmured lowly amongst themselves as the cards were enveloped back into the deck, and passed down the line for Vega to deal. Graced with a moments rest and respite the table broke for refills and a stretch. Coming back with his talons curled over 2 glasses; Garrus slid one across the ledge to Shepard which she caught.

" Shepard?" Joker ducked his head, trying to catch the Commander's eye with a knowing, wry grin.

"Your turn." The Turian finished coyly, taking his seat.

Shepard opened her eyes to regard the table, most sets of eyes keenly set on her. But instead of speaking to the table as most others did she sought out an individual's face. She settled on Garrus; the one responsible for all of this.  
In reality there were a great many things she thought about doing once the war was over, old debts to repay, favours to cull. But they didn't want to hear about business.  
But that was Shepard, all business.  
The spacer brat from the Einstein, Alliance born and bred.  
So when she was forced to think of something pleasant sounding to do after the war she drew a complete blank.  
And she_ liked_ that about herself, _so why did it annoy her so much? _

"Think I'll learn how to swim." She spoke directly to the Turian in her perfected deadpan tone.

The table issued a wide variety of comical snorts and guffaws. Mainly because it was so alarming to hear that Shepard couldn't swim, but also because it was impossible to tell whether or not the young woman was actually telling the truth, or just taking the piss.  
She let the table calm down, taking a reflective swig of whatever it was Garrus brought her. It was strong, almost enough to break her perfect poker face.

"Be a little more…_adventurous_, Commander. You can do better than that." Kaidan spoke conversely in that calm, collected manner of his.

Shepard's teeth ground into the flesh of her cheeks.  
Damn, she thought, they found her weakness.  
Alright, so Shepard wasn't the most creative when it came to this sort of thing, but she'd also never gotten much of a break. The Skyllian blitz was now just a fond field-trip bus ride, Akuze blending into the scenery when more pressing nightmares commanded her dreams, N7 training, countless missions, Saren, her own death.  
When was the last time she even sat down to finish a book?  
Did she even have any hobbies?

_'oh, that is a depressing thought.' _She thought worryingly.

Shepard could tell she was going a little blue in the face just thinking about it, so she shifted her focus to people. She liked people, hell the only thing keeping her going at this point were the very people sitting here with her.  
And without her express permission Shepard's mind treacherously wandered to flashing lights, yellow gooey interfaces, cooling fans, and...

_'that stupid baseball cap.'_Her bitter, pathetic inner monologue moaned.

Suddenly it was…**Math camp** all over again. She was 14, and Steven Banks didn't want to go to the end-of-the-summer, heavily supervised, camp dance with her.

Shepard could keep her face as passive as she liked, but she couldn't stop the faint blush that spread from cheek to cheek.

"Anytime Commander." James smirked, lifting his glass.

"Ok, I think I got one." She held her shoulders straighter, arm wrapped protectively around her squirming insides. "I…Think I'll take up the serious study of time travel," She perked up to fix the stupidly interested pilot's eye with a meaningful look.

"And alternate universes." She finished gravely, not even unlocking her eyes to take a deep, much needed drink.

Joker's difficulty swallowing much of anything at that second, and the distraction his sputtering caused was a reward in itself, but somehow she still didn't feel satisfied. If anything, the admission made her feel if at all possible even more hollow.  
And not because she was staring rejection in the eye for perhaps the second time, but because deep down Shepard knew there'd be no _after-the-war_ for her.

She wouldn't get her time to be just Shepard for him, no uniform, no rank.

She wouldn't get a chance to settle the score, do things the way she'd planned, do things right.  
Not when she was put on the spot, fumbling for her pilot's affections in the back of a bar.

All of her sincerity would die with her.

Shepard sat forward on her seat, placing all 4 legs properly on the floor and setting her glass down with a clink, gesturing to James.

"Deal."


End file.
